


The Fic Where Pete And Mikey Spend A Year Together (or Mikey Way Isn't Straight)

by MCR_ruinedmylife



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Gay, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mourning, greif, i love this concept, road trip au, summertime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCR_ruinedmylife/pseuds/MCR_ruinedmylife
Summary: Mikey Way always woke up at 6:45 Am.





	1. prolouge

3:17 AM every morning, Pete would stumble into the apartment he shared with Mikey and collapse onto the shitty futon in the living room, face down, next to Mikey. He would toss and turn and mumble gibberish while the taller boy pretended to sleep next to him.

6:45 AM, without fail, Mikey would sit up from either a sleepless night or be pulled from his night terrors by the alarm clock. Yeah, he could wake up later- but if he did that, he wouldn't have time to push Pete off of himself, shower and get coffee. 

Mikey would precede to push his-previously- shitfaced roomie off of his torso, peel off his sweaty pajamas and get under the water. That was the best part of his day, washing off all the evidence of the terror he was subjected to in his sleep. 

Pete, on the other hand, would only wake up when Mikey was gone. He stayed in bed unless he was drinking his sadness away, unless he was selling that day. Usually he made enough for rent in a couple of sales, so he didn't need to do it often. He was going gray and never went a full day without crying so hard his throat went hoarse and his eyes got all puffy.

Of course Mikey was miserable, especially on the day he'd gotten hit with the train called Life.


	2. Helena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REAL ORIGINAL TITLE I KNOW

Mikey's POV   
When my phone goes off, I'm standing behind the counter at work. The screen displays my mom's contact, which is strange for a Thursday morning. Since nobody's in my line, I hit the green 'accept call' button. I regret doing that. 

"Mikey?"  
"Yeah, mom?" 

She's crying on the other end of the phone. It's the same crying she used when Gerard ended up in the hospital after a suicide attempt and we didn't know if he was gonna make it, the same cry she used at grandpa's funeral, the same cry from after the divorce happened.  
"Mom? What's wrong?" I ask as I turn away from the counter. Sobs begin to tear through my mom's body as the phone was taken from her and handed to someone who could better handle the situation. 

"Hey, Mikes," the familiar voice of my brother says. His voice is hoarse and deep like he's been crying for hours on end.   
"Gee? What's going on? Why is everyone crying?"

I ask, suddenly frantic. A large number of things could have happened between last time I saw them and right now.   
"Mikes...Grandma died this morning."

My stomach drops out of my body and I can almost hear my heart breaking. My legs become too weak to support my body and they buckle as my stomach begins trying to expel the little food left in it. The world has ended. This is it.  
"W-what? Gramma Rush is...is..." I'm unable to say it. 

"Yeah," he chokes on his own sob before taking a deep breath. "The funeral's on Monday." I have no words.

\------ 

The next few weeks are like a movie, in a sick way.

At the funeral, mom and Gerard are sobbing and leaning on each other for support, Aunt Marie and Uncle Jamie are standing emotionless in the rain, random old people are waiting around and the priest is saying a prayer. Words are mumbled in languages I don't understand.

Moving out Grandma's things and crying at nearly all of them, from the old camera to the paint set. Each ball of yarn Is like a memory from my childhood I'm losing. 

Nonetheless, I still wake up at 6:45 AM, no matter how fucking terrible the night terrors are. Frank keeps telling me to leave the house as if he thinks I can still get out of bed. I can't get out of bed, Frank, you fucking idiot. I can barely wake up on time anymore.

\---- 

I'm standing in a hotel room. In the corner of the room, a young version Gerard is standing without emotion on his face. He sways with a glassy look in his eye, like a five-year-old with a bad fever. 

Probably because that's what he is you dumbass. 

I walk over and wave my hand in front of his face, but he doesn't respond. Before I know what's happening, the whole room bursts into flames. I try to move, run, tug Gerard forward so we can leave, but nothing works. The flames lick Gerard's cheeks and melt the flesh off little by little. 

He stands, screaming and sobbing and yelling while his once soft cheeks melt away and burn. Soon, the boy is completely engulfed in flames. And then, just like that, the flames are gone and so is the little boy. 

Instead, the figure hunched over in the corner is the newer, older version of my brother. I'm almost too scared to touch him, let alone step forward, but my legs are shoving me forward against my will. Next thing I know, I've turned his face over. 

Half of it's gone, stripped to the bone. The other half is burnt and partially melted. His greasy black hair is fringed in places and his clothes are all burnt away, leaving holes in the fabric. I will myself to wake up, shout, scream, anything at all, but I can't. 

I can't ever wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED BY @PETEZZA-WENT-TO-TOWN AND @RAYSTORO I LOVE YOU TWO SM

**Author's Note:**

> A/N  
> Hey fuckos, it's Maura Kate! My friend Krissy and I are writing and editing this fic, I hope you like it so far. 
> 
> There will be a song at the end of each chapter and a playlist to each song at the end of this fic. 
> 
> This week's song: Don't Try- Gerard Way


End file.
